There Is No Light Now That You're Gone
'It was her that made him laugh and saved him from growing as grey as his other surroundings.'
The room was charcoal white.
The black wooden desk sat in the corner with a lamp sat upon it.
The window panes stayed shut, never opening despite his protests.
He swept the room every day but the dust was forever present.
He replaced the lightbulb that had blown with a fresh one every morning.
No light passed through the window.
No light illuminates the dark room.
He screws in the bulb.
He turns on the light.
It doesn't emit any brightness.
There is no glow.
There is no light.
There is no brightness.
He sits on the recliner chair on the opposite of the room.
There is a puff of dust that floats in the air as soon as he drops his weight.
He checks his voicemails.
He hears a voice. He laughs.
The lightbulb begins to flicker.
He laughs harder. Boisterously.
Light fills the room.
Sunlight through the window.
The recording ends.
It’s a different recording from a different time.
The room gets black.
It’s as dark as night but the clock reads 8am.
He is alone.
He changes the lightbulb again.
He turns on the lamp.
The room stays dark.
He sits in his chair again.
He looks at the world around him.
He can’t see a thing. Not even a shadow.
There is darkness.
He sighs.
She only sees darkness and so does he.
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